The notion of sin dominated my girlhood. Raised in Indiana by fundamentalist parents, sin was the inflexible yardstick by which I was measured. Actions, words, even thoughts werent safe from scrutiny. The list of sinful offenses seemed infinite: listening to secular music or watching secular television, saying gosh or darn or jeez, questioning authorities, envying a friends rainbow array of Izod shirts. God was a megaphone bleating in my head: Youre bad, youre bad, youre bad! I had recurring nightmares of malevolent winds tornado-ing through my bedroom a metaphor, I now realize, for an invisible and vindictive god.
Although I no longer have contact with my parents and live a very different life, we do have this in common. Just as my parents approach to imparting their values was shaped by an effort to avoid the sins they feared, I am raising my two daughters according to my moral code. To me, the greatest sin of all is failing to be an engaged citizen of the world, so the lessons are about being open to others rather than closed off.